


Haunted.

by atomiceyes



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:34:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomiceyes/pseuds/atomiceyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief is like a monster, Jack would take the islands monster over this one any day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted.

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Fawn killed me with her Jack/Kate angst fic of doom for the previous "How to Save a Life" challenge in the lyrical muses. I saw this weeks and decided it fit in with that premise. So, with her permission I wrote a Sequel. I don't have her original fic, which was beautiful. It sort of stands alone but it would hold more weight with her fic. :(

 

Its past midnight before they get home and it seemed like a million years ago he’d stood dumbfounded on the stairs watching his whole life walk out the door. There hadn’t been anything to say at the hospital, no words that would make this okay or any less painful. It was his fault and if he’d thought, only hours ago, that he was a colossal failure he sure knew it now.

 

It seemed to him that Kate was too numb to speak and he wished he felt numb. Could you even feel numb? Wasn’t that an oxymoron, numbness was the lack of feeling. He’s not sure; he just doesn’t want to feel this.

 

He led her upstairs to their bedroom, silently thanking whoever was listening that she was okay and that she hadn’t fought him on coming home.

 

How does life spiral out of control like this? A week ago he was making really bad spaghetti and on the receiving end of her merciless teasing about it. There had been laughter and making love on the kitchen floor because neither of them could wait out the trip up the stairs to the bedroom. How did his life go from that, to this?

 

To this train wreck, oh what a metaphor, at least he hadn’t thought plane crash.

 

Jack tucked Kate in and realized he was treating her with patient gloves, he knew how bad it was because if she was in her right mind she’d be pissed off that he was acting like she would break. He wasn’t so sure she hadn’t broken, smashed to pieces by his cowardice. He knew he was just fragments of the man he’d been a week ago and he only had himself to blame. He left her in bed, a glass of water and her prescription sitting on the night stand.

 

He couldn’t stay with her, he knew he should, he should curl up in the bed and wrap his arms around her and never ever let go but he couldn’t. Even if he could he’s not sure that his presence would be welcome right now and he can’t blame her for that.

 

_I need to get my bearings_

_I'm lost_

_And the shadows keep on changing_

 

His footsteps land heavy on the steps and he automatically heads to the liquor cabinet but he changes his mind when he’s halfway there – he cannot become his father. He’d been well on his way for so long and he just can’t do it, he can’t be his father and he can’t turn Kate into his mother. He wishes he could fix this but he knows there is nothing he can do, no words he can say or actions he can make.

 

His eyes land on the answering machine, the numbers blinking at him; he presses the button and automatically regrets it as Sarah’s voice fills the room. He can’t even listen he just grabs the machine and yanks the cord from the wall before throwing it against the opposite wall. He doesn’t care what she has to say, he blames her just enough to allow him to breathe. It was his mistake and his problem, his issues but if she’d just stayed the fuck away from them none of this would have happened. So he doesn’t feel guilty for placing some of the blame on his ex-wife. He can’t, too much guilt is already weighing him down.

 

Jack doesn’t know how they’re going to get through this. He didn’t know when Kate ran in the first place. He’d dealt by drinking his weight in vodka and wallowing in a kind of misery he’d never quite experienced before. Now he practically prayed for that same kind of misery.

 

Their baby; A life he and Kate created was just gone. Given his profession he should be prepared for things like this. He knows what stress can do to a human body, he knows how fragile those first months are, and he knows all of that as clearly as he knows he is to blame.

 

He can’t even think and he can’t cry because it’s as though he has no tears left. All he can see is Kate’s face when he pulled away from that kiss with Sarah. The kiss he’d let happen because he couldn’t just tell her to leave, he had to let her speak and let her have those minutes of hope. He couldn’t dash all her dreams even though she’d caused unspeakable damage to him years ago. He couldn’t just turn his back, but then it became about Kate – she made it a choice as if there was one - and hell if he was going to choose Sarah over Kate.

 

The silence was maddening. It seemed to have this weight, the silence, pressing against his skin threatening to suffocate him.

 

_And I'm haunted_

_By the lives that I have loved_

_And actions I have hated_

_I'm haunted_

_By the lives that wove the web_

_Inside my haunted head_

 

He sat down on the plush couch and sunk into the suede. When he closed his eyes he saw her in that hospital bed looking so frail – nothing like the Kate he’d always known.

 

There was something churning around in his stomach and he fought the urge to vomit, there was nothing there to purge. He just sat there, staring off into the corner of the room. His eyes fell on a picture of all the survivors, it was taken at a party that Hurley threw a couple months after they were rescued. His arms were circling Kate’s waist and she was laughing at something Charlie was saying to Claire. They looked so happy, hell even Sawyer was smiling in the picture. Jack wished things could be that simple again, even with Kate’s legal trouble they’d managed to just be happy. He’d never had that before. He’d never quite known that carefree spirit – the thing that Kate brought into his life.

 

It was true what he’d told Sarah. Kate accepted him; Kate fixed him by showing him how to fix himself. It wasn’t just something they were pretending at, they were working at it. They fought, they yelled and screamed and then they talked and dealt with whatever the hell was wrong. It wasn’t perfect but it was real and now he had no idea how to get back to that.

 

Was it even possible? He always failed; he was so fucking good at failing. It was so very ironic that he was proving his father right every day he went on.

 

_Don't cry,_

_There’s always a way_

_Here in november in this house of leaves we'll pray_

_Please, I know its hard to believe_

_To see a perfect forest_

_Through so many splintered trees_

_You and me_

_And these shadows keep on changing_

 

Jack leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes again, this time he felt the wetness slide across his cheek. He fought the tears, begged for them to go away but they were relentless. Like his thoughts they mocked him, pulled him into this grief that he couldn’t deal with. He wasn’t sure where to start.

 

A weight at his side pulled him back to reality, back to the couch and the room and the mockingly happy picture in the corner. He turned his head and looked at her. Even with the despair written in her eyes she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his entire life. He could barely believe he was lucky enough to have her, then again he knew he didn’t deserve her, he knew it with striking clarity. He was selfish though and he couldn’t just let go of her – his father was right and wrong in so many ways.

 

Kate just stared at him; there was a quiet kind of understanding in her eyes. He was sure she would hate him. He was so sure of it that he was practically waiting for her accusations – poised for defense - but none came. He knew she was still angry, she was still hurt but she needed him. His hand lifted of its own accord and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ears. He loved her hair. She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes, a tear fell and his heart broke.

 

He couldn’t say if he pulled her to him or if she crawled there but it was seconds before she was curled up in his lap, her quiet breathing against his tear soaked neck.

 

_I'll always want you_

_I'll always need you_

_I'll always love you_ <

 

“I’m sorry Kate, God. I’m so sorry,” he breathed into her hair and held her tight.

 

She gripped his shirt in her fist and just kept breathing, it was slow and methodical like she had to remind herself to breathe in and out.

 

“I love you,” His voice broke and her breath hitched, he knew she was crying again before he felt the salty tears soak his shirt. Kate hated to cry, she hated to feel vulnerable and he hated it too.

 

This grief was like a monster between them and Jack was more terrified of it than he’d ever been of the islands elusive monster. It was soaking them in it, deep inside of their marrow and Jack wanted to banish it, do anything to make it go away but he couldn’t and he knew the only way they could survive this was to feel it. They had to let it in and deal with it.

 

_Come here_

_No I won't say please_

_One more look at the ghost_

_Before I'm gonna make it leave_

_Come here_

_I've got the pieces here_

_Time to gather up the splinters_

_Build a casket for my tears_

 

He doesn’t know how long they sat there before he carried Kate upstairs to the bedroom. He put her down and slid in behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

 

Nothing would make this better and he couldn’t fix it and he wasn’t even going to try. For once in his life Jack was going to let the wounds heal naturally. He was going to feel the pain and not let it consume him. He was going to be there for Kate, he’d take her tears and her anger and whatever else she wanted to throw at him in her grief but he was never going to let go.

 

Some thing’s were just too valuable to loose.


End file.
